


Five Times Nicky's Nanny Was More of a Mother for Her than Her Actual Mother

by satonawall



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2680769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satonawall/pseuds/satonawall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Nicky's nanny was more of a mother for her than her actual mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Nicky's Nanny Was More of a Mother for Her than Her Actual Mother

"But Paul said I’m too young!"

Maria scoffed. “And when have you ever listened to Paul, young lady?”

Nicky tilted her head and assumed her most beseeching look. “He’s stupid and wrong most of the time, but I think he for once got it right, Maria.”

"Look," Maria said. "I’m not going to force you to get on that bike, but it’s an awfully long way to Jane’s house if you walk, isn’t it?"

Nicky considered it. “You wouldn’t make me walk. Everyone says it’s too dangerous to let kids go out alone. You’re just bluffing.” She pronounced the word carefully; she’d just learnt it the previous week on the schoolyard from a couple of seventh-graders.

"Am not," Maria said. "I’ll get myself a bike and you can run after me if you want to go anywhere."

"But I hate running!"

"I know."

Nicky tried to look pleading, but Maria did not budge.

"I’ll get you fired," she said. "I’ll tell Mummy I don’t want to live with you anymore."

Maria pursed her mouth, and or a moment Nicky was afraid Maria was going to tell her that her mother wouldn’t care enough to go through all that trouble, because maybe she was six years old but she still knew it was true.

"That would be sad," Maria said when she finally spoke, "but at least then I’d have a lot more time to spend with my nieces. And your next nanny would just tell you you need to learn to ride a bike anyway. It’d be a lot less hassle if you just do it now."

Grudgingly, Nicky grasped at the handlebars of her bike. “At least you’ll have to hold the back so that I don’t fall down.”

"That I can do," Maria said and did as promised.

Nicky lifted her foot off the ground carefully, but when the bike did actually stay upright she gained a little confidence and pushed down the pedal more forcefully. Maria ran after her, still holding on to the bike, and Nicky pedaled faster. She only noticed Maria wasn’t keeping her up anymore when she turned to shout at her joyously. Immediately, she turned around and cycled to where Maria was standing with a small, subtly smug smile on her face.

"You said you’d keep me up!"

"No point in doing for you what you can perfectly well do yourself," Maria said.

"I bet you also lied when you said I could only visit Jane if I learnt to ride a bike," Nicky said with a scowl.

"I did," Maria said. "But there’s good news for you, too, because I also lied when I told you we weren’t going to buy ice cream today."

Nicky wanted to stay mad, but ice cream was a very powerful argument.

"Do you think Mummy will be proud of me when I tell her I rode a bike all by myself?"

"Of course. Parents always are."

They both knew it wasn’t quite true, but sometimes truth was a little overrated.

—-

Her hands met only a wooden wall, and a little feeling around told her the wood had her surrounded. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Screams echoed around the small coffin, and she had to stop because she couldn’t bear listening to herself anymore.

The quietness lasted only a few moments before a hand appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her shoulder. This time, the scream she let out was so terrified that the coffin couldn’t contain them and she woke up, still shouting from the top of her lungs.

"Shhhh, young lady, you’ll wake up the whole block," Maria said, pushing hair off of Nicky’s sweaty forehead.

Nicky curled up under the covers and away from Maria’s touch. “I want my mummy.”

"I know." Maria pulled her hand away. "I want her to be here for you, too."

"Why’s she not here?"

There was a pause, as if Maria didn’t quite know what to say, and then, “When people have too much money, they forget what’s important.”

Nicky pulled her blanket upwards so that it almost covered her whole head and her words came out as muffled.

"When I grow up, I don’t want to have any money."

"That’s lousy, too," Maria said. "You’ll have to stress about where you live and you can never buy ice cream just because you want to."

Nicky nodded, although from under the blankets it wasn’t very clear.

"Will you be okay now?" Maria asked. "I can stay if you want me to, but you need sleep. If you fall asleep in class tomorrow, your teacher will be very cross, and he already doesn’t like me very much."

Nicky was already halfway on her way to falling asleep, so her voice came out a little slurred. “That’s because he’s an idiot.”

Maria waited for a few seconds, until she heard the smallest hint of snoring.

"That he is, Nicky," she said. "That he is."

—-

It wasn’t a very good day for Nicky, overall. Evelyn hadn’t spoken to her at all (she’d already said she was sorry about the party, how many times did she have to repeat herself until Evelyn got over it?), and the college kid who had promised to get her cigarettes had bailed on her. Not to mention that she’d called her mother twice about the leaking tap in the kitchen, and had only got her voicemail both times (she didn’t care about the tap, not really; Maria would tut-tut at it when she came back from visiting her aunt and call the repair man, and everything would be good within the day – it was just a fairly good excuse to talk to her mother because it seemed that nothing less would get her attention) which she’d hung up on both times to have a reason to call again.

She’d had worse, she reminded herself. That time her mother had gone to Europe without even telling her beforehand had been pretty bad. She hadn’t even sent a postcard.

She pushed the front door closed after herself without much concern for the noise it would make, kicked at the mail on the floor and tried to find satisfaction in banging her own door closed as well.

It didn’t last long, if it even gave her any.

Blasting music very loudly for a few moments until Mrs Jacobson from next door began banging on the wall did at least make her feel a tiny bit better enough that she lowered the volume and went to the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. Comfort eating was usually effective for her, and it didn’t fail her completely this time either. Placated, she picked up the stack of mail off the floor and began sorting through it. Newspaper, bills, an ad for a yoga class, some more bills (she sure hoped Maria had made sure she’d come back in time to pay them; she probably had, the forward-thinking devil), and (speak of the devil) a postcard from El Salvador.

_Dear Nicky_ , it read,

_My aunt chased a red-footed booby off her washing today; I mention it because I suspect you would find the idea amusing. I hope everything is going well._

_See you soon,_

_Maria_

Nicky couldn’t explain why she burst out laughing. It was a very short card, obviously written and sent only because Maria felt that the done thing was to send her a card, and Nicky didn’t have to imagine very hard to see in her mind’s eye how Maria had written her about the bird because she couldn’t think of anything else she could tell Nicky about, but still. She was in another country, visiting relatives she hadn’t seen in a long while, and she still spent ten minutes of her day remembering Nicky. It was… nice.

She finished her sandwich and went back to her room to start up on homework and to text Evelyn again. If Maria noticed the card pinned to the corner of Nicky’s notice board when she came back some days later, she never said anything.

—-

She hadn’t really been planning on going to the party at all. It had just sort of happened, and then it had gone on happening for a couple more hours.

And there she was now, standing in the lift on her way up to home, her watch showing the time 00.15 and five unanswered calls from Maria flashing on her phone.

"Did you even bother to think of an explanation?" Maria asked from the kitchen doorway as soon as Nicky had closed the front door.

"I was at a party," Nicky said, hoping to discourage Maria with the casual tone. "It was pretty organic, I’d have called but I forgot."

"Did you forget your curfew as well, or did the organic nature of this party rot it all out of your brain?"

Perhaps she should have remembered that Maria had known her since before she’d even learnt that bravado was a thing.

"Okay," she said. "So I’m a litte late-"

"You’re over an hour late."

"-But it could be worse, right? I could be drunk, or on something."

"Something worse than the tobacco smoke you’ve got on your lungs, you mean."

Damn her and her perceptiveness.

"It’s none of your business what I’ve got on my lungs." Nicky cocked her hip and flashed a sardonic smile.

"I get paid for making it my business," Maria said. "I’ve made mistakes in my youth more serious than a cigarette here or there, and in my experience controlling things like that doesn’t do much good with someone your age, but you are not going to distract me from your curfew so easily."

"Isn’t that a thing whose controlling doesn’t do much good with someone my age?"

"No," Maria said. "I can’t make sure you don’t smoke unless I never let you out of the house. And I can’t do that, this is not a fairy tale. But I can make sure you’re home when we agreed you would be, and I can ground you if you’re not."

"You can’t ground me!"

"Yes, I can," Maria said. "And that is what I am doing. Two weeks. Don’t pout so, you’re not even going to miss that next party you were so excited about."

Nicky wanted to argue, but she also felt she was going to doze off fairly soon, so she made do with a muttered, “I hate you” on her way out of the room.

She didn’t see Maria biting her lip to keep words of her own to herself, but she did abide by her grounding for the full two weeks.

—-

The visiting room chairs were uncomfortable. They didn’t hug.

"You look better than I expected," Maria said. "Perhaps cold turkey suits you."

Nicky laughed, the sound too loud but appropriately bitter for the room. “Perhaps you’ve been knocked over the head a few times since we last met.”

“Quite possible.” Maria pursed her lips. “I’m working for a family that has two seven-year-old boys. Toy trucks fly quite often in that household.”

Nicky threw her leg over the other and leaned back. “Less than before you arrived, though, am I right?”

Maria pursed her lips further. “Yes. You’re right. I am good at what I do.”

“Not so good that you’d get hung up on the one you couldn’t fix, though,” Nicky said, leaning over the table towards Maria. “Why’re you here?”

“Are you sure you want me to say it out loud?”

Nicky let herself fall against the table, laughing against it just so she wouldn’t cry. “I’m not fucking seven anymore, and I got all messed up anyway. You can say you’re here because you know my mummy,” she hoped the mocking tone hid the genuine hurt, “doesn’t love me enough to come.”

“I’m here because I think you need someone,” Maria said. “And I raised you for over ten years.”

“But you still don’t love me enough to come either.” She wished she had gum. Chewing on it really obnoxiously would have fit the situation very well. “You love your nieces and your sister and your aunt and uncle, but you don’t love me. I’m just a kid who took ten years of your life and only gave you back some money and a request to appear in court as a witness in a drug case. So why are you here?”

She finally managed to provoke a sigh. “Because I knew no one else would, and my sense of responsibility is overdeveloped.”

Having it out there, actually hearing it, deflated Nicky’s bravado; she had to look away not to cry.

“You’re not going to come another time,” she said once she’d got her eyes under control. “They make visiting us super unpleasant, and there’re limits to what you’ll do for someone just because you used to wipe their ass when they were a kid.”

“No, I’m not.” Maria’s fingers flexed where they were gripping her handbag. “But someone should visit everyone during their first weeks here. People shouldn’t just disappear. And I’m here now, so if you want to talk to someone who you don’t have to fear might use it against you the first chance she gets, try me.”

Nicky laughed. She was surprised to realise that it was actually genuine. “You know, that’s just a load of shit considering it’s from someone who pretty much taught me what using someone’s words against them means.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have had to do it so often if you’d even once done as told without needing to be reasoned with and appeased to so very much.” But Maria was smiling too. “And besides, you said it yourself, you’re not seven anymore, and I’m not your nanny.”

She couldn’t explain it, but looking at Maria, Nicky felt inexplicably better.

“So,” she said, leaning forwards so that others wouldn’t hear, “there’s Red, who’s in charge of the kitchen.”

She talked until the visitors were told to leave, and Maria listened. It probably wasn’t all that interesting to her, but she did listen, and no one had forced her to come, but she’d come anyway, and that was more than Nicky had ever been able to say for her actual mother.


End file.
